


Holding on. Letting Go.

by QuestionableLiteraryMerit



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Contest Entry, Drowning, F/M, Ghosts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-15 10:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuestionableLiteraryMerit/pseuds/QuestionableLiteraryMerit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of supernatural attacks suggests that a new (non-wolfish) entity is threatening the citizenry of Beacon Hills. Derek and Stiles have to figure out what it is while Scott and Allison have to come to terms with the nature of their new relationship status. All of this happens on a rather awkward, double date-ish outing that includes pizza, slavic folklore, and a special guest appearance from an old friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding on. Letting Go.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my entry for the Teen Wolf fan fiction writing contest. My descriptive detail is really sparse because there was a 3,000 word limit. Additionally we couldn't directly reference branded commercial things, so all my pop culture references had to be sneaky inferences instead ;P 
> 
> In retrospect, I think I was a little crazy to think this actually had a chance at winning. It introduces new show elements, depicts some slightly violent scenes, and really rushes a lot of the action. Perhaps I would have been more successful in portraying a sliver of a single character's life and focusing on just one or two voices? Who knows? I just wanted to post this for the cathartic release of finally being able to LET IT GO. Which is actually really appropriate given the theme/title. 
> 
> Life? Would you please stop imitating art already?

The first attack happened on the beach.

The setting sun had turned the sky a rich, fiery red. Two frat boys claimed that their mutual friend went out for a swim to meet a pretty girl who was wading in the deep. She waved for him to come join her. They left to give them some privacy.

According to the sheriff’s report, when the boys came back they found their friend’s dead body washed up on shore, bloated with saltwater. They looked everywhere for the beautiful woman, but she was nowhere to be found.

The second attack hit closer to home.

It had been nearly two weeks since the curse of the Kanima had been lifted. Boyd and Erica were still missing. Jackson, Lydia, and Isaac all volunteered to skip school in order to help the Hales search the forest for clues as to their whereabouts.

Lydia followed a trail of trampled grass for several yards before she looked up and realized how far she had strayed from her friends. She turned to retrace her steps, but stopped when she noticed something strange in the distance.

It was small lake hidden in the middle of a wooded glen.

At the center of the lake, Lydia saw a little girl wearing a silver nightgown. She was perched on the trunk of a fallen tree that was sticking out from beneath the surface of the murky water, like a broken bone jutting through skin. The girl was rubbing her hands together, nervously.

Lydia ran toward the water’s edge. She called out to her.

“Are you okay?! Sweetie? Are you hurt-“

Lydia would later describe the invisible force as a pair of cold, calloused hands. They grabbed her ankles and jerked her down into the shallows. As she fell, she had a chance to let out one blessed scream before her head was pulled underwater.

Jackson came running within seconds. Isaac trailed just behind him. With their collective strength, they were able to drag Lydia’s muddied body away from the water. Once she caught her breath, Lydia screamed at the boys to go save the little girl she had seen earlier. Lydia tried to point her out, but was stunned to discover she had vanished.

***

Peter insisted Lydia’s incident was a bout of hysteria, brought on, perhaps, from the supernatural stressors of days past.

Derek thought the attack was real. Real and indicative of some new threat that might destroy them all if it was not dealt with immediately.

After much vociferous debate, the two reached a compromise. Peter would continue the search for Boyd and Erica. Derek would investigate the lake incident.

Isaac and Jackson offered to patrol the lake’s perimeter for safety purposes, which left only two remaining allies to whom Derek could turn for assistance:  Scott and Stiles.

***

Derek accosted Stiles at school only to discover that recruiting the boys would be more problematic than he had expected. Scott had already arranged an outing with Allison that evening, marking the third time, post-breakup, that the two had attempted to socialize as “just friends.” Stiles had agreed to play third wheel in order to make the outing feel more platonic.

When Derek explained what happened to Lydia, Stiles blanched. He told Derek about the drowned frat boy at the beach and speculated that the two incidents were connected.

Stiles wanted to help, but he had made a promise to Scott that he simply couldn’t break. He vacillated a bit before he finally came up with a brilliant solution.

“What if you came with us?” Stiles asked. They could temper the romantic tension while doing research at the same time, which was, in Stiles’ mind, win-win.

Derek stifled a growl.

He reluctantly consented to the new plan.

***

Dinner was a complete disaster.

Allison was taciturn, which was to be expected given the inherent awkwardness of the gathering. Derek scowled for most of the meal, refusing to contribute to the conversation unless absolutely necessary. Stiles would have normally filled up any silence with his inane chatter, but he was too busy trying to eat pizza and type at the same time. That left only Scott to drive their discourse, which resulted in several lengthy soliloquies about lacrosse practice. It was during one of these tedious rants that Stiles had his breakthrough.

“ _Rusalkas_!” he whispered to Derek, with a giant grin on his face.

“ _What_?” Derek asked as he pulled away a persistent string of mozzarella that had gripped his bottom lip.

“Rusalkas,” Stiles repeated, pointing to the laptop screen. “They’re folk-beasties that beguile innocent bystanders and drown their victims. That fits the MO, right?”

“Are they shapeshifters?”

“Possibly, but most sources say they’re the restless spirits of the drowned. They’re also frequently depicted as feminine, which fits both cases: Bewitching Beach Babe  _and_  Little Lost Lake Girl.”

 “Ghosts aren’t real, Stiles.”

 “A werewolf who doesn’t believe in ghosts?” Stiles chuckled.  “That’s…adorable.”

“They’re  **not**  real!”

“What about Peter? He ‘haunted’ Lydia’s brain for weeks before rising from the dead.”

“That’s diff-“

 “Scott, you don’t have to pay for me,” Allison said suddenly.

“I’m grabbing the check for everyone,” Scott replied. “Not just you.”

 “It makes me uncomfortable, okay?”

“Why?” Scott insisted. “Why would one friend be uncomfortable with another friend picking up the tab for a table of friends having a friendly dinner together? What’s so uncomfortable about that?”

 “Separate checks.  _Please_.” Allison said, addressing their server directly.

The waitress bolted before anyone could protest.

***

Things only got worse at the coffee shop.

At the counter, a barista complimented Allison. Scott stepped in and chastised the guy for his forwardness. They had a short verbal scuffle that Allison quickly quelled with a withering gaze.

The two arrived at the table mid-argument.

“…doesn’t give you the right to say or do anything on my behalf, Scott.”

“I can’t look out for you? As a friend? That guy was skeezy. What? Were you interested? I can go back and get you his number if you’re interested!”

 “Say, guys?” Allison began with a heavy sigh. “Could you excuse us for a moment? We need to have a talk.”

Derek nodded vigorously.

“Sure!” Stiles said. “Take your time!”

Allison took Scott by the arm and dragged him outside. Although Stiles could no longer hear what they were saying, he could still see them gesturing wildly at each other through the picture window. He rolled his eyes as he turned to face Derek.

 “I have a theory about the rusalkas. It’s pretty wacky, so hear me out. Okay?”

“Shoot,” Derek said.

 “What if… _the veil_ …is torn?”

“The  _veil_?” Derek repeated with raised eyebrows.

“You know,” Stiles prodded. “ _The_   _veil_. The barrier between the living and the dead? What if Peter’s comeback tour disrupted the natural order of things? What if, somehow, his resurrection  _tore_  the veil asunder…”  Stiles ripped a napkin in half for dramatic effect. “…and  _that’s_  why these spirits are suddenly getting encore performances?”

“You guys!” Scott interrupted, charging toward their table. “Allison’s gone!”

“You were out there for five seconds!” Stiles accused. “What did you SAY to her?”

“She said she’s walking home! I’m going after her. You guys catch up, okay?”

 Scott didn’t even wait for confirmation before he started sprinting toward the door.

 “C’mon,” Stiles groaned, coaxing Derek out of his seat. “Help me wind up the power cable.”

***

Derek and Stiles jogged along, trying to keep Scott and Allison within their visual range. Thankfully, the pair stopped to have another sparring match on an old bridge. This prompted the boys to slow down until Stiles realized something.

“Derek,” Stiles began. “The bridge! It’s over a river!”

“So?” Derek asked.

Before the word even left his mouth, grim realization sunk in.

The boys began running toward their friends at top speed.

***

“What are Derek and Stiles shouting?” Allison asked.

Scott’s ears perked up. He heard with perfect clarity, but failed to comprehend.

“Sounds like… _Get off the bridge_.  _Get off the bridge_.”

“Wha-?”

It happened too fast for Scott to react. Allison was pushed over the wooden railing by an unseen force.

Before he even heard the splash, Scott had already bounded over the ledge.

When Stiles and Derek arrived, Stiles leaned over the railing to see if he could spot his friends. The same force toppled him over so that he fell into water headfirst, flailing the whole way down.

Derek cursed under his breath before he dove in after him.

***

After they collected their wits and treaded water without incident, the group guessed it was safe to swim to shore. Once they had reached land, they were ready to dismiss the entire ordeal as a freak accident, when Allison and Stiles were both thrown back into the river. The mysterious force held their heads under, face up, while their bodies flailed in the shallows.

Scott and Derek leapt into action.

Derek knelt down next to Stiles’ body. He wrapped his arms behind his back and pulled Stiles’ chest upright, out of the water. Scott did the same for Allison. Both humans drew breath just in the nick of time.

“Still feeling  _skeptical_ **,** Derek?” Stiles sputtered between coughs.

Derek growled his rebuttal through gritted teeth as he strained to keep Stile’s head above the water’s surface.

“Scott,” Allison wheezed. “Weight. On my chest….Keeps pushing me down-”

“S’okay. I got you,” Scott whispered.

“Oh my GOD,” Stiles cried. “This is it! We’re going to drown in two feet of water. That’s got to be the lamest death  _ever_.”

He blinked.

Stiles looked carefully at his surroundings and finally recognized where they were.

“Guys!” Stiles shrieked. “It’s  _Matt_!”

“ **What**?” Everyone shouted in unison.

“Matt! He  _drowned_  in this river. It’s HIM! I know it!”

The gang shouted into the void, begging Matt to stop…

But nothing happened.

“Stiles!” Derek huffed. “I can’t hold on much longer. We need a Plan B. NOW!”

 “Right,” Stiles answered slowly, a somber calm entering his voice. “I’ll distract Matt. You help Scott with Allison.”

“What?!”

“He can’t save her by himself, Help him and then get out of here!”

“I’m  **not**  leaving you!”

Stiles smiled. “There’s no other way, Sourwolf.”

“NO! Wait!”

“OH MY GOD, MATT!” Stiles cackled as he threw his head back. “You are so USELESS!”

“STILES! DON’T!” Derek ordered.

 “You can’t swim!” Stiles continued. “You can’t stalk Allison without her finding your creeper-peeper photo stash! You can’t even kill us fast enough!”

“STILES!”

“Dude! What are you doing?” Scott shouted.

 “You couldn’t do  _anything_  right! You couldn’t save yourself from drowning in this river! And now you’re a  _ghost_! Get the joke, Matt? You couldn’t even  _die_  the right way!”

“STILE-

Derek was thrown back as Matt’s body materialized over Stiles’ torso. Derek’s head hit the ground hard, knocking him out. Allison tumbled backwards with Scott as she was released from Matt’s spectral grasp.

Matt straddled Stiles’ body. He gripped his jacket and pulled him up before plunging his chest back into the water.

“How’s  _this_ , Stiles?”

Matt lifted him up. He held Stiles close to his face.

“Will  _this_  will finally shut you up?”

Another dunk.

Another lift. 

 “Will they  _cry_  for you, Stiles?” Matt raged quietly. “Nobody  _cried_  for me. EVERYBODY FORGOT ABOUT ME!”

“You tried to  _kill_  us. Multiple times. What did you expect?” Stiles spat. “A parade float?!”

Matt screamed in Stiles’ face before submerging his head one last time. Scott and Allison watched in horror as his limbs began to thrash underwater.

“Matt! STOP IT!” Allison shouted.

Matt glared. He picked up Stiles and tossed him over to the shore like a ragdoll before making his way toward Allison.

Stiles didn’t move.

“ _Scott_ ,” Allison whispered. “I’ll handle Matt. You go help Stiles.”

“But-“

“GO!”

Matt didn’t notice Scott circumventing him to get to Stiles.

He was completely fixated on Allison.

As Matt approached, Allison shuddered. She noticed the steady rise and fall of the hollow ribcage poking through his soaked shirt. It was a grim reminder of his former humanity.

“It’s not true, Matt.” Allison said as she desperately delved through her bag. “We didn’t forget about you.”

She pulled out her phone which was, thankfully, still functional. Her fingers trembled over the touchscreen as she overheard Scott compressing Stiles’ chest on land, begging him to breathe.

“I have a picture of us. It’s the one we took when we were just goofing off between classes.” Allison offered him the phone. “Do you remember?”

Matt’s sunken eyes brightened with recognition as he glimpsed their faces on the flickering screen.

He smiled.

“I keep that photo, because it’s the only happy memory I have of you. It’s the only thing I can remember that doesn’t… that doesn’t make me  _hate_  you.”

Matt returned the phone to her. His arms fell back to his sides.

“You did terrible things, Matt. But you never deserved  _this_.”

“A-Allison,” Matt fumbled. “I never…I mean, I didn’t- I didn’t know how to make them stop.”

“Make what stop?”

 “ _The voices_ ,” Matt chocked out. “They were always laughing at me. When I was alive. When I dreamed. When I drowned. Even now, the  _whole time_  I’ve been waiting here…“

He covered his head with his hands and clenched his teeth. “ _They never_   _stop_.”

Allison’s eyes welled with tears.

“I swear…I never meant to hurt you. Or your friends.”

“I believe you, Matt. I-I’m sorry we couldn’t save you.”

Matt nodded. “I’m sorry too. For…everything.”

As those words left his mouth, Matt’s body began to dissipate into a warm fog. He drifted through Allison’s arms, up into the night sky. She watched him fade into the twinkling firmament above until her attention was arrested by the gentle sound of Stiles hacking up river water.

Derek came to. He rubbed his sore head and beamed once he saw Stiles wiggling around in Scott’s embrace, the color finally returning to his cheeks.

Stiles coughed several times to clear his throat.

“Did we win?” he asked cheerfully.

***

“I had a really good time tonight,” Scott said as he walked Allison to her front door.

“Really?” Allison laughed. “What was your favorite part?”

Scott grinned sheepishly. “Um…the pizza part, I guess?”

“Scott,” Allison said with a tired sigh. “We…we can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“This,” Allison said, pointing to the space between them. “I don’t want to go out on any more  _not-a-date_  dates.”

“Are you saying we should start  _date_ -dating again?” Scott asked hopefully.

Allison pursed her lips. She shook her head.

Scott blinked.  “Oh.”

Scott nodded his head, trying to keep up a brave front. “Okay. Well, I guess I’ll go ahead and go now.”

He started to retreat, but stopped midway to his car. Before Allison could turn her key, Scott whipped around and pointed an accusing finger at her.

“You can forgive a murderer who stalked you and tried to  _kill_  you, but no matter what I do or what I say, you’ll always think of me as a monster. How is that fair?”

“It’s complicated!”

“Sometimes I think you’re the one who’s  _making it_  complicated.”

“Maybe you’re just too  _simple_  to understan-” Allison slapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, God. Scott, I didn’t mean it,” Allison pleaded. “I didn’t- It just came out-“

“So you were  _thinking_   _it_ , you just didn’t mean to  _say_   _it_?!”

“That’s not what I said! Scott-”

Scott didn’t stick around to argue. He stormed over to his car and drove away as quickly as he could.

***

Derek stopped his car next to Stiles’ in the school parking lot. He turned off the engine before glaring at the pale teen seated next to him.

“So,” Stiles said. “Ghosts.”

“Yeah,” Derek clipped. “Ghosts.”

Stiles hesitated. “Were you expecting white sheets with cut out eyeholes too?”

 “Do you realize how  **stupid**  it was for you to goad Matt like that?!” Derek exploded.  “You could have- ”

His voice snagged.

“Hey,” Stiles said with a weak laugh. “It  _seemed_  like a good idea at the time. Besides, martyrdom is bound to get me some bonus hero points.”

Derek narrowed his eyes. “You did it because you think you’re  _expendable_. You write yourself off as this disposable sidekick, but in the end I couldn’t count the number of times we would all be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

“I don’t think I’m  _disposable_ ,” Stiles said shakily. “It’s just hard to feel important when everyone is packing claws and crossbows and the only bullet on  _my_  résumé is keen detective work. Everyone’s got  _something_. Something and someone.”

Derek frowned. “Is this about…Lydia?”

“No. Not anymore. I’m happy for her now.  Jackson too, I guess. It’s just- their new alignment pretty much cements my position as the unattached weirdo within our little mystery solving team.”

“Allison and Scott aren’t together.”

 Stiles balked. “I give those two one more near-death experience before they realize their love is epic.”

Derek turned away. His jaw tightened.

“What?” Stiles prodded. “You don’t think they deserve a happy ending?”

“It’s not  _that_ , “Derek sneered. “It’s just, sometimes, no matter how well two people fit together…”

 “They can’t ever…make it work?” Stiles offered.

The boys stared at each other for a minute.

Stiles finally broke eye contact by forcing a yawn.

“I should probably start heading home now. It’s pretty late. Tomorrow we can brainstorm how to handle Beach Babe and Lake Girl.”

“Plus any other spirits that might emerge if your ‘ripped napkin’ theory pans out,” Derek added.

“Torn veil.”

“Whatever. “

“We should probably meet up after school. Your place?”

“Sure,” Derek shrugged. “Why not?”

“Good! It’s a date. Well, you know, not a  _date_ -date,” Stiles quaked. “More like a predetermined, mutually agreed upon, meeting time… _thing_.”

“Good NIGHT, Stiles.”

“G’night!” Stiles chirped as he climbed out of the car.

Derek watched Stiles board his vehicle.  

Before he drove away, Stiles paused. He looked over to Derek and waved goodbye.

In a moment of  _profound_  weakness, Derek Hale waved back.


End file.
